Echoes of Grace

by Caragh Bell

  ‘Let’s go somewhere and talk.’ He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they walked back towards the marram grass.

  ‘James?’

  ‘Hmmm?’

  ‘Will you come with me to Ireland?’

  He stopped short. ‘Ireland? Whatever for?’

  ‘I’ll explain on the way,’ she answered, ‘but we need to go now.’

  ‘Is this to do with your father?’

  She nodded. ‘I have to go. I have to meet him and find out the truth.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I just don’t want to go alone. I understand if it’s hassle with Claire and all . . .’

  ‘It’s perfectly fine,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘Claire and I, well, we’re not together any more.’

  ‘You’re not?’ She felt her heart soar.

  He shook his head. ‘It’s been bad for a while.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘For a long time, in fact. We just couldn’t admit it.’ His eyes burned. ‘So, I’m all yours.’

  She felt her stomach jump. ‘So you’ll come with me?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  Maggie wrote out Silas Walsh’s address on a piece of paper. He lived on an island off the south coast called Cape Clear. It was a haven for writers and artists apparently, a quiet untouched place of great beauty. He had moved there permanently five years before. Aurora had googled it and it indeed looked amazing. She scrolled down and saw that you could get a ferry from a place called Baltimore and it was just under an hour from there. Baltimore? That sounded familiar. Then she remembered Lydia saying her family home was there.

  They touched down in Cork at five the next day. Laura, on hearing of their plans, had given Colin a ring and asked if he would put them up for a night. Lydia and Luca had taken Sienna to New York, so their apartment was locked up.

  ‘Oh, it’s like a posh hotel,’ said Laura. ‘Just keep it clean – he’s a neat freak.’

  If she thought it was strange that James was accompanying her, she didn’t say. Aurora didn’t care what she thought – all that mattered was that he was with her, carrying her bags and holding her hand.

  Colin even drove out to the airport to pick them up. Laura had given him the bare details of Aurora’s story and he was fascinated. ‘It’s like an episode of Dallas or something,’ he mused. ‘Affairs, lost love, different fathers. I’m all over it.’

  His apartment was indeed as lovely as Laura had said. A white couch stood in the middle of the room and expensive art hung on the walls. The kitchen gleamed and there wasn’t a hair out of place.

  Colin gestured down the hall. ‘So, I have one bedroom so you can fight over it.’ He blushed. ‘Unless you both want to . . .’

  James shook his head. ‘Not at all. I’ll take the couch.’

  Aurora felt a pang of disappointment but she brushed it away. He was right, of course. In the public’s eyes they were still brother and sister. It would look very odd if they bunked in together at their age. She still couldn’t gauge his feelings. He acted like a perfect gentleman, making sure that she was looked after. Her muddled brain couldn’t even contemplate anything else and it was as if he knew it.

  Colin cooked a fabulous dinner of bouillabaisse washed down with Pouilly Fuissé and, for dessert, a delectable crêpe soufflé with a caramel sauce. ‘Well, I love to cook,’ he said modestly when James had seconds of everything. ‘It gives me great pleasure to see others enjoy my food.’

  Val had thrown his eyes to heaven at that point. ‘We normally have Dolmio days,’ he whispered.

  ‘We do not!’ shrieked Colin indignantly.

  At two in the morning, Aurora woke. Despite the soft sheets and comfortable mattress, she felt ill at ease and jumpy. Opening her bedroom door quietly, she padded down to the sitting room.

  ‘James?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yeah?’ he answered immediately.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn’t sleep either. His head was propped up on a pillow and his chest was bare.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked as she sat on the edge of the couch.

  ‘I can’t sleep.’

  ‘Me too. This sofa is as hard as a rock.’

  She bounced up and down. ‘Blimey, you’re right. It’s awful.’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you want to sleep with me? The bed is huge and . . .’

  ‘Are you propositioning me?’ he asked in mock horror. ‘Borealis!’

  ‘No, no.’ She blushed furiously. ‘I just mean that it’s a waste and we need our sleep and . . .’ Her eyes grew sad. ‘I can’t think of anything but Silas Walsh at the moment. I’m so nervous.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ He smiled. ‘I like the left side if that’s okay.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ she answered.

  Minutes later, they were lying on the soft mattress with the heavy duvet on top.

  ‘You definitely got the better deal,’ said James. ‘This is bliss.’

  ‘I felt sorry for you out there . . .’

  ‘Oh, you did.’ He pulled her body close so that they were spooning. ‘Is it okay to hold you like this?’ he whispered into her ear.

  Aurora closed her eyes. It felt amazing. All she wanted was his presence. She couldn’t handle anything else. Just to know he was there.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sleep well, Borealis,’ he whispered, kissing her head.

  Colin eyed them suspiciously when they emerged the next morning. Val had already left so he was sitting at the table on his own.

  ‘Was the couch uncomfortable?’ he asked innocently.

  James poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘We got talking and I must have fallen asleep. I woke up in my clothes.’

  ‘I don’t remember dropping off,’ added Aurora. ‘You came to say goodnight, wasn’t it, James? Then the next thing we knew it was morning.’ She avoided eye contact and sat down.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Colin who looked like he didn’t see at all. Stirring his coffee, he changed the subject. ‘I’m heading down to see Auntie Helen later so I’ll give you a lift.’

  ‘We can get a bus, Colin,’ said James. ‘You’ve been far too generous already.’

  ‘Not at all. I’ve been meaning to visit for weeks. I loaned her my fondue set months ago and I need it back.’ He took a big bite of granola. ‘Plus the ferry leaves from where she lives. Her house is five minutes from the pier.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure.’ He smiled. ‘I think I might have some news.’

  ‘Oh?’ Aurora buttered some toast.

  ‘Have you ever heard of a barm brack?’

  ‘A what?’ said James.

  ‘It’s a fruit loaf we eat here at Halloween. It’s no ordinary bread though. It has items baked inside it: items that decide your destiny.’

  ‘Such as?’ asked Aurora.

  ‘A pea for poverty so no one wants that. A stick means you’ll beat your spouse and a bean means that you’ll be rich.’ His eyes glowed. ‘The most coveted slice contains the fáinne: a small gold ring. If you get it, it means that you’ll be married within the year.’

  James laughed. ‘Are you still obsessed with that?’

  Colin ignored him. ‘So this year, I bought a loaf and decide to have a slice with butter. I grabbed the bread knife and was about to slice the crust off when I got a rare moment of wild impulsiveness and I slashed through the middle.’ He fanned his face. ‘Crumbs flew everywhere which totally freaked me out so I went to get my mini-hoover. Then I noticed something on the table: the fáinne!’

  Aurora gasped. ‘You got the ring!’

  ‘It wanted me to find it. It led me to it. Like Arthur and the Sword of Truth!’ He held up his hand to show them a small gold ring on his pinkie. ‘It’s not the most expensive ring in the world,’ he admitted, ‘and it leaves a horrible green stain. However, its symbolism is everything.’

  ‘Did Val get the message?’ asked Aurora.

  ‘I think so! He said he has to start saving as he knows I’d be super-picky about
a ring.’ Colin glowed with pleasure. ‘And he’d be right.’

  Colin dropped them at the pier in Baltimore.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t come up to Auntie Hel’s for a cup of tea?’ he said, yanking their bags out of the small boot of his Audi TT. ‘She lives just up the road.’

  Aurora shook her head. ‘No, thanks, Colin. I’m anxious to get out there.’

  ‘I understand,’ he said his brown curls blowing in the wind. ‘Good luck with finding your daddy.’

  According to the timetable, the ferry was due to leave at two. James had booked a guest house for them both which was just near the harbour and reasonably priced.

  She could feel her stomach do flip-flops over and over. Cape Clear Island didn’t look very big therefore it should be easy to track down this Silas. She zipped up her coat and they took their place in the queue which was forming. A man with a peaked cap helped her on board and James lifted the bags on. Soon they were out at sea, the boat moving up and down on the large waves.

  The scenery was magnificent. She could see the green hills of Sherkin Island with dark caves underneath and the white waves crashing on the shoreline. Ahead was open water: a vast expanse of murky blue that stretched as far as the eye could see. An old lady sat on an upended fish crate, her white hair covered with a green scarf. Her lined face looked weather-beaten and wise and she reminded Aurora of Maggie. A young woman sat on another crate with a small boy on her lap and bags of shopping at her feet. No one batted an eye when the swell increased and the boat rocked from side to side.

  James pulled his beanie hat over his ears and rubbed his hands together in an effort to keep warm. She, however, didn’t feel the slightest chill. Breathing in the salty air, she felt invigorated and alive. She could face this. One conversation and it would all be over.

  Just under an hour later, the ferry docked at North Harbour. The man with the peaked cap threw a big thick rope onto the pier where another man fastened it in place. The crowd disembarked quickly until only James and Aurora were left.

  With a heavy heart, she stepped onto the pier and looked around. There was a shop and a café nestled at the bottom of a steep hill.

  ‘Let’s go to the shop and ask for directions,’ suggested James.

  Aurora nodded. ‘I feel sick,’ she said, clutching his hand. ‘It’s just like the time I was waiting for my A-level results.’

  When they reached the shop, a small red-haired man greeted them in Gaelic. Aurora waved, unsure of what to say.

  ‘Oh, you don’t speak Irish,’ he said smiling. ‘That’s no problem at all.’

  ‘I was wondering if you could help me,’ said Aurora in her clear voice. ‘I’m looking for a man called Silas Walsh. He’s a writer.’

  ‘Sure, I know Silas. He lives up on the hill.’ He pointed upwards. ‘Go halfway up and take a sharp left. Then continue on for about ten minutes and his cottage is the small one on the left.’

  ‘Has it any defining feature?’ asked James. ‘A specific colour or shape?’

  The man scratched his beard. ‘It’s a greyish colour with a large potted plant outside the door. Oh, and a big fuchsia bush. You’ll see that all right.’

  Aurora smiled. ‘Thank you.’

  They walked out into the winter sunshine. The hill was almost at a right angle to the pier and after about two minutes they were breathless.

  ‘One would be very fit living here,’ she said, stopping for breath.

  ‘Smoking would be a definite no-no,’ agreed James.

  They turned left as instructed and the gradient eased slightly. The small lane way was overgrown and wild. Orange and blue wildflowers dominated the hedgerows and there was no sound except for the seagulls flying overhead.

  ‘It’s beautiful here,’ she said wistfully. ‘Look at the view.’

  They gazed out at the blue sea glistening the fading light. The mainland was visible in the distance, dominated by mountains. On and on they walked until they reached a group of small houses. One was a two-storey with white walls and Velux windows. Then there was a stone cottage with vibrant window boxes full of flowers. Finally, on the left was a grey house with a large bush outside it. The red-and-purple flowers danced in the breeze.

  ‘This is it,’ she said. ‘This is the one.’

  James dropped the bags and faced her. ‘Do you want me to wait out here?’

  She nodded. ‘I think that would be best. I need to face him alone.’

  He leaned over and kissed her lips gently. ‘Best of luck.’

  Her eyes widened for a moment. ‘Thank you,’ she said with a warm glow inside.

  She knocked on the door loudly – three loud raps. No one answered so she knocked again.

  James leaned against a wall and watched. ‘Maybe he’s gone out?’ he suggested.

  Disappointment flooded her body. She had geared up to face him and now she felt deflated. Knocking one last time, she rested her head against the door.

  Please answer . . . please.

  Suddenly, the door creaked and opened slowly. She fell backwards in surprise and held her breath. There, wearing a black woollen jumper, stood Silas Walsh. He looked the same as that time at Bertie’s party: tall, sallow-skinned and with slightly greying hair. A brief look of shock flashed over his face, but he regained his composure almost immediately.

  ‘Aurora,’ he stated.

  ‘May I come in?’ She held her head up high.

  He nodded and opened the door wide. ‘Please.’

  The cottage was small and modest. A wooden table with four chairs stood in the middle of the flagstones and a small stove was burning in the corner. The shelves were filled with books and papers were strewn all over the floor and on a small couch.

  ‘Have a seat,’ he said, clearing a place on the couch. ‘Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.’

  ‘It’s quite all right.’ She sat down stiffly. ‘I’m sorry for arriving unannounced.’

  He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘Henry told you before he died, didn’t he? He promised he would.’

  She nodded. ‘On his deathbed, in fact. It was quite a shock.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that.’ His face tightened. ‘We should have told you years ago.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’ she asked directly, the hurt evident in her voice.

  He looked out the window, his broad back inhibiting the light. For a moment he said nothing, he just stood there deep in contemplation.

  ‘Time passed by,’ he said in his deep voice. ‘The initial fervour faded.’ He sighed. ‘By the time you were grown, I felt it was too late.’

  ‘So what changed? Why did Henry reveal the truth?’ Her chest heaved with emotion.

  ‘I felt the time had come. You had grown up and I wanted to know you.’

  ‘You wanted? You wanted?’ Her eyes flashed. ‘What about me? What about my needs and my feelings?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What happened, Silas? Why did you and Mummy lead separate lives?’

  He took a seat at the table. ‘When I met Grace, my life was very different. I was married to a woman called Jessica. I met her at Trinity in Dublin and we got engaged in our final year. Her father played golf with my father and it was a suitable match. Our wedding was a merging of two great Dublin families and all was how it should be.’ His face tightened. ‘Then Jess lost our first baby and then the second. She grew depressed and distant. I knew she was unfulfilled but there was nothing I could do. We drifted apart as my work in the theatre took me to London a lot.’

  ‘Is that where you met Mummy?’

  ‘Yes. She was playing Rosalind in As You Like It. I had never seen anyone like her. I had always scoffed at the idea of love at first sight, you know, that coup de foudre moment, but I swear it happened then. I was entranced.’

  ‘But you were married,’ she said reproachfully.

  ‘Yes, I was. I’m not proud of that, Aurora. I didn’t set out to hurt anyone – you’ve got to believe that.’

>   ‘So why didn’t you leave your wife?’

  ‘She was very depressed. She even attempted suicide. I was trapped. We were like strangers and I was miserable at home. Grace was everything I wanted.’

  ‘So why did she marry Henry?’ she pressed on. ‘If you were so in love, why did she marry Daddy?’

  ‘Jess became very ill. I was forced to go back home and care for her. I broke all ties with Grace as I was desperately guilty about our affair. I felt it would be better to separate.’ His face changed. ‘She came to me and asked me to run away with her. I refused. I told her that it was over and not to contact me again.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I had to, Aurora. My wife needed me. So Grace went away. I’ll never forget the look on her face.’

  ‘You sent away a pregnant girl? How could you?’

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t know about the baby – about you – not until much later. Henry was waiting in the wings and they got married. I read about it in the newspapers and I was heartbroken. I felt that I’d lost her forever.’

  ‘But you arranged to run away with her. I saw your letter.’

  ‘Yes, I couldn’t forget her. In fact, I was pining for her. I drove to Cornwall and we met on a beach. She was about eight months gone by then. The minute I saw her I knew the baby was mine.’

  ‘And that changed things?’

  ‘Yes, of course it did.’ His eyes flashed. ‘I should never have left her go. Then when I realised how miserable she was too, I knew we had to run away. There was no point ruining both our lives. So we arranged everything.’

  ‘I know the rest.’ She wrapped her arms around her body protectively. ‘She died and you left me with Henry Sinclair.’

  ‘Left you? I came for you. I heard of your birth and came for you. Henry pulled out the big guns and threatened legal action. He told me that I was in no position to raise a child. My work was unstable and my wife even more so. He insisted that you stay with him and be raised as a Sinclair. I was so devastated about Grace, I let him convince me.’ He banged the table with his fist. ‘Left you? If only you knew. I watched you grow up. I saw you from the distance all the time. Maggie sent me pictures and updates. I tried to take you back on numerous occasions, but Henry wouldn’t allow it. On Grace’s tenth anniversary, I visited him. I had read about his new wife and his plans to move to London. I pleaded with him to tell you the truth but he forced me off his property. He claimed that you were happy and had a whole new life to live in the city. I didn’t believe him until I saw you with those other children. You were at the park with the stepsons. The blond one was pushing you on the swing and you looked so happy. It was then I realised that Henry was right – you had a loving family which was something I could never give you.’